In this case it is the 40-something wasps busily constructing a nest in the eaves outside my studio window.
The story goes like this: we have an elaborate cooling system at our house. This might be a bit too tricky, but it's called "keep-one-window-open-downstairs-and-another-window-open-upstairs-with-a-fan-blowing-out-of-it". Crazy and outlandish, I know. But it works. It pulls the cool air in and pushes the hot air out. Simple and effective. Except for when Chip is out of town--- and when he's gone, which is every week, I don't feel comfortable keeping the downstairs window open all night. Which is a mighty cramp for our high tech home cooling system.
My fancy work around for closing the downstairs window Monday night was to open the window in my studio, which is the room next to Bean's. Still providing the necessary air cooling system for the house. BUT all was put to a huge stop when Bean and I were hanging out on the lawn Monday afternoon. I looked up at the house and spied a creeping crawling nasty mass of wasps doing their nasty horrid wasp-nest building thing RIGHT OVER MY STUDIO WINDOW. I was so horrified that I immediately whisked Bean up into my arms and ran straight back into the house, locked the doors and windows, and did everything but stuff the crevices with towels and newspapers--- anything to make sure that no stinging wasp creature could wiggle its way into the house and MAKE US PAY, PAY FOR EVERYTHING.
(It's possible that I have some fairly elaborate theories about the evilness of wasps and any other members of their stinging coven. But most especially the wasps. What kind of sick joke is it that a wasp can sting and sting and STING someone without suffering a truly deserved death? At least with bees they pay the ultimate price for their offense--- but a wasp? A wasp can just sting you for kicks. And that's just so very wrong. I sort of envision the entire wasp family as this angry dysfunctional sociopathic mob family and they roam the countryside looking for unsuspecting people to MAKE THEM PAY, PAY FOR EVERYTHING.)
Obviously I didn't open the studio window Monday night. I was too worried that the wasps might burrow through the screen or bring their tiny tiny wire cutters to break through the screen and then sting me and the cats and Bean in our sleep and MAKE US PAY, PAY FOR EVERYTHING. And then they'd break our knee caps.
Instead, I suffered. Well, Bean and I suffered. We took turns. She was too hot in her room, resulting in several wake-ups before midnight. By then I was so stressed out and weirded out about regulating the temperature that I couldn't stay asleep longer than 50 minutes. I'm not kidding, and I know for sure because every time I woke up I looked at the clock. First I was worried that it was too hot in her room--- during one of her wake-ups I changed her into cooler jammies (shorts and a t-shirt). Then I was afraid that I'd keep the fans on in her room too high and she'd actually get cold and wake up. Then I was waking up (every 50 minutes) to check on the temp and try to do something to regulate it. Too hot: turn the fans up. Too cool: turn the fans down. Too hot, too cool, too hot, too cool. 2am, 3am, 4am, 5am... and then Bean was up for the day at 6.
I vowed that Tuesday night would be different.
So I went to work on the window screen in the studio. Taped up the edges with masking tape --- the edges where the screen meets the window and any other possible crevicey type area except for the screen itself. I worked quickly, quietly, and oh so freakishly--- flinching and shuddering every time one of those evil flying buggers made a pass by the window. In most cases I would quickly slam the window shut lest one of the wasps decide to invade the house and MAKE ME PAY, PAY FOR EVERYTHING.
And this is why you love me: neurotic, weird, and all too willing to tell you about it. Are you afraid of bees and wasps and anything with a pointy stinger?